


Season

by orchis



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, NewS (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchis/pseuds/orchis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamapi's final act as the leader of NEWS. A little angst with a hopeful ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Season

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it’s not too soon to post this. The thing is, I’ve been depressed since I heard the bad news. But slowly, I’ve remembered what NEWS has taught me—you’ve got look at the bright side, you’ve got move forward, think positively, and see every change, no matter how painful, as an opportunity to grow and improve. I’ll always support them. And even if the remaining members don’t release anything new (which I hope won’t be the case, because I’m really looking forward to what the four can do together), I’ll always have what they’ve taught me. I wrote this thinking about that, and it’s helped me cope. I share it here, for catharsis. It’s unbetaed, I apologize for any mistakes. :P

Clouds hovered above Koyama’s head menacingly. The sky was too dark for an afternoon, and even with the suffocating heat, the wind started blowing. A storm was coming. Nevertheless, he remained outside. He fished his cigarettes and lighter out of his jeans pocket. Before he could light a cigarette, though, he heard the door to the rooftop opening.

He didn’t have to turn and look to know who was there. Above, thunders. Summer was ending.

“I thought you’d be here…” Yamapi said, softly, and walked until he was next to him, but Koyama didn’t address him. He lightened his cigarette and took a deep drag.

“I wanted to talk to you first, but… you know…” Yamapi trailed off.

Yes, he knew. A million things came up and Yamapi couldn’t, really wasn’t able to spare the time an energy. He knew.

“You didn’t have to,” said Koyama, still not looking at him.

“No, but I wanted to,” Yamapi said, and let out a sigh.

“Do you want a cigarette?” asked Koyama, and turned to him, offering him the packet.

Yamapi nodded, “Thank you,” and took one to his lips.

Koyama reached out to light it, sheltering the tiny flame with his hands. Yamapi looked at the tip of the cigarette, and then up at him. There was something about his eyes, something that Koyama had never really figured out. Yamapi knew how to shelter himself, how to put a screen between himself and the world, when he wanted to.

Ever since Koyama had grown to know Yamapi enough to notice this, he had hated it. And he had learned to treasure those few moments when he could witness Yamapi’s true light, dancing in his eyes as he smiled sincerely. When Yamapi showed himself entirely to him, Koyama felt that, even for a few moments... well, it didn’t matter anymore.

It had been a while, though.

They smoked together in silence. They had done that several times. Even though Koyama had always been the chattiest person in the room, he had learned to be quiet when he was around Yamapi, if it’d been necessary. Sometimes Yamapi needed space, or they were both too tired to talk, and their silence had long since stopped being uncomfortable. While studying Yamapi’s poker face, Koyama felt a pang in his chest, as he realized just how much he treasured every single moment he had ever spent with Yamapi. Good times, bad times, they had all been precious to him.

“It was never meant to last,” said Koyama, finally.

Yamapi looked at him, his eyes open and curious. Well, that was something.

“We were always meant to be a temporary unit,” Koyama chuckled, in spite of the sadness. “To be honest, I’m grateful for the time we had together.”

“You still have time together,” Yamapi said, “You can go on…”

Koyama’s smile was bitter.

“I meant what I said in there. I do share your opinion that this is the best to be done. But this group was created for you, and you know that. I’m just glad we played our part, and I was grateful for the opportunity to be part of it. To be part of your life,” Koyama added, and there was no reproach in his voice. “I’m still grateful.”

It started to rain. They pressed their bodies against the wall, trying to protect themselves from the rain. Koyama looked to the sky, the buildings surrounding them, the rooftops. The city was still moving below, the world wouldn’t stop.

“I know that,” Yamapi said, “but that doesn’t mean you guys can’t work it out.”

In the corner of his eye, Koyama saw Yamapi put out his unfinished cigarette on the floor, stamping it. The slow rain was soaking their clothes. Koyama felt a drop of water crawling from his nape, down his spine, just below his collar. It was cool and refreshing, but he couldn’t restrain a shudder.

Then, he felt Yamapi’s warm hand on his nape. He relaxed to the touch. It had been a while.

“I’ll be happy to be your worthy rival,” Yamapi said.

Koyama turned to look at him, and chuckled, “Are you joking?”

Yamapi shook his head, looked at him as sincerely and serious as Koyama had ever seen him. It surprised him a bit.

Koyama smiled at Yamapi, and felt the weight on his chest lift just a little bit.

“Then, me too. I’ll be happy to be your worthy rival.”

Yamapi smiled back, but it was a happy gesture as much as a sad one. Koyama couldn’t help but raise his free hand and caress Yamapi’s cheek with his thumb. Yamapi let him, and there was affection in his eyes. Yet another thing Koyama hadn’t seen for a long time.

“We should probably go back,” Koyama said, after a moment. He withdrew his hand and put out the rest of his cigarette. Yamapi nodded and let him go. Koyama started walking towards the door, and Yamapi stayed behind.

“Hey, Koyama!” Yamapi said.

Koyama turned around, waited for him to go on.

“Thank you for everything.”

Koyama nodded, and turned to go back to the meeting room, where the others were waiting. Yamapi followed him silently.

 **The End**


End file.
